


Proud of You

by Adventures_in_Writing



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Tuckington - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adventures_in_Writing/pseuds/Adventures_in_Writing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tucker supposed he just wanted someone who was competent to hear him out. He wanted to feel like he’d done a good job, that he hadn’t completely fucked it up. Washington was the only one around whose opinion on the subject really mattered…</p>
<p>No one had ever said they were proud of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proud of You

**Author's Note:**

> My second attempt at writing Red vs Blue fanfiction. Originally posted on my Tumblr but I thought I'd share here too :) Tuckington if you squint.

It had been a couple of days since the Reds and Blues had managed to find each other again. Things had been so crazy recently, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on in Chorus that they hadn’t really had a chance to catch up properly. Although Grif would refuse to admit it, he was very glad to have Sarge and Donut back. Simmons was almost beside himself with happiness.  
  
“You know,” Tucker began. Agent Washington looked up from the fire he had been staring into. He had a number of things he wanted to say to his aqua coloured teammate but he was never too good with emotional things. “Even though I bitched about it at the time, those drills really helped out.”  
  
“What?” Washington tilted his head to the side a little to show he was listening.  
  
“I mean it, dude. Man, we would have been fucked otherwise. We fucking sucked as captains. Grif was still a lazy asshole, Simmons could barely command his girls and Caboose...” Tucker shook his head. “Not that I’m saying I was any better. I got two of my guys killed trying to get information on where you were being held. That was a fuck up of a day...”  
  
Washington had no idea where Tucker was going with this. The man never really seemed to talk about anything serious all that much. With the aqua soldier it was always bitching and moaning about doing squats...or to drop a badly disguised innuendo. This time it seemed like Tucker needed someone to listen. Washington was happy to do that. He was much better at listening than talking.  
“Everyone has days like that,” Washington admitted.  
  
Tucker continued on. “No one else would have done it. It doesn’t take a fucking genius to know that none of us are cut out for command. We knew that way back in Blood Gulch but...someone had to try. We couldn’t just leave you guys.”  
  
“And that someone was you.”  
  
“Too fucking right it was me! I wasn’t about to let my friends rot in some evil imperial army’s prison cells. So I manned up and said “fuck this,” and tried.”  
Washington was rather surprised to head Tucker refer to himself, Sarge, Lopez and Donut as ‘friends’. He wouldn’t openly admit it, but knowing Tucker thought of him that way was kind of nice.  
“I don’t know how we made it here in one piece. Grif seemed to think it was dumb luck.”  
  
“It probably was,” Washington said. If anything, dumb luck was how the Reds and Blues achieved everything. “That’s how you guys get by.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re right...just a bunch of losers.” Tucker’s shoulders slumped as he rested his elbows on his knees. He didn’t know what he was expecting or why he was offloading all of this onto Washington. Tucker supposed he just wanted someone who was competent to hear him out. He wanted to feel like he’d done a good job, that he hadn’t completely fucked it up. Washington was the only one around whose opinion on the subject really mattered. When it came down to it, Wash was the most experienced and able leader the Blues (and even the Reds) had worked with. Tucker had to admit, it was nice for a change and it certainly had its merits.  
  
“But you know, even with dumb luck on your side, you wouldn’t have gotten anywhere if you hadn’t tried. Luck only gets you most of the way.”  
  
Tucker was silent as he thought about the comment. He turned to Washington.  
“I guess I’m just trying to say thanks, Wash.”  
Washington was well and truly confused. Thank him? What for?!  
“If you hadn’t drilled Caboose and me so hard, if you hadn’t been such a good leader, if you hadn’t believed in me...we’d probably still be with the rebels going ‘Shit, what the hell do we do?’”  
  
Washington reached up, unclipped the seals and took his helmet off, ruffling up his hair so it didn’t sit flat.  
“I like to think that we would have found you if you hadn’t found us first but...” he stood, took two or three steps to the side and sat down again beside Tucker. Without really thinking, he put an arm around Tucker’s shoulders. “You did a good job, Tucker.”  
  
Tucker’s reaction was unexpected and he turned his head quickly, almost knocking his helmet against Washington’s head.  
“What?” he asked, fumbling with his helmet, trying to undo the clips.  
  
“I said, good job, Tucker. God, if anyone else had lead the team you probably wouldn’t have made it out of the rebel camp. Well...maybe Simmons could have, but he second guesses himself too much out on the field. You just pick a course of action, go at it--”  
  
“Bow chika bow wow.”  
  
Washington shook his head with a chuckle. Something he didn’t often do. “--with resolve and think about it after you’ve done it. Or after you’ve failed. Its your no-nonsense fuck-off attitude that got you here.” He looked over to the makeshift temporary base where the Reds had recently retired to. “It’s probably why they were happy to follow you. And probably because you guys trust each other so much. Even though you’re Blue and they’re Red, you guys work pretty well as a team when it comes down to it. You know how you guys work, what your strengths and weaknesses are.”  
  
Tucker rubbed a smudge off his visor. “Trust them?” Tucker had been about to deny it, saying you couldn’t trust a Red, however, he knew that without them he wouldn’t have made it at all. “Trust might be pushing it, but I guess they’re not a bad bunch of guys.” Tucker looked up at the sky and idly wondered if the Reds thought of him - and the rest of the team - that way. Washington was right. Despite their differences and the history of fighting between them, when things were bad, Tucker knew that the Reds would have his back when it really, truly mattered.  
  
“Tucker?” Washington asked to get the solider’s attention.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Washington gave Tucker something very rare; a bright, warm smile. Tucker hadn’t thought the man was capable of anything but a tight lipped neutral expression which barely passed for happiness. The expression caught him by surprise.  
  
“I’m proud of you. All you needed to do was try.”  
  
His mouth moved before he could really think about his entirely inappropriate response.  
“What the fuck?”  
No one had ever said they were proud of him. Tucker couldn’t even think of anything he’d done that would be considered worthy of it.  
  
“How could I not be?” Washington asked. “You did a difficult thing as best you could. You didn’t even _want_ to do it, but you gave it your best goddamn shot anyway. I’d be a pretty shitty leader if I wasn’t proud of you.”  
  
There as a slight pause. Tucker didn’t really know what to say and his reply was a little delayed and awkward.  
“…Thanks, Wash.”  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
Tucker couldn’t stand leaving things on a serious note. Whilst he was an honest guy, he was a joker by nature and defaulted to saying funny and off-handed comments to diffuse the tension.  
  
“But man am I glad you’re back. All of that responsibility and making decisions...being a commander blows.”  
  
Despite his best efforts, it was hard to not pick up little quirks from his team. He grinned; a glimmer of the Washington of days past. “How’d it go again? Bow chika bow wow.”  
  
Tucker glanced around the campfire. No one was paying them any attention. The grin that graced his features was wickedly suggestive.  
  
“Is that why you like being the commander, Wash?”  
  
Washington had to remind himself that this was how Tucker interacted with his friends, that he wasn’t making any kind of serious move on him. Though if Tucker _was_ making a move, well, Washington found that he wouldn’t mind that.  
“Is that why you didn’t like being the commander, Tucker? You prefer taking the orders rather than giving them out?” It had been a while since Washington had joked around casually with his friends. Hell, it had been a while since he’d had anyone he considered friends.

  
 “No way dude, I’m no ones bitch,” Tucker said with a smile.  
  
“I don’t know...” Washington said with a drawl, “I distinctly remember making you my bitch. You ran all the laps I told you to and did all the squats and obstacle courses too. I even remember Grif mentioning it.”  
  
Tucker laughed. It was hard to get upset at the man when it was obvious he was playing along with Tucker. The aqua soldier couldn’t recall a time when the man had ever spoken with him like this. In fact, he didn’t often make crude comments at all.  
  
“Okay, okay. Maybe I’m your bitch.”  
  
Wash smiled, “I think I can work with that, _Lavernius_.”


End file.
